


"...and so they danced the night away."

by tea_petty



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dancing, F/F, F/M, Jazz - Freeform, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: The Sole Survivor hits up the Third Rail after a long day.  Some of the Companions prove to be quite light on their feet.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

The moon had reached its peak in the sky, when Sole strolled into the Third Rail, back from their latest escapade and with Detective Nick Valentine in tow.  Sole let out a breath they hadn’t realized they had been holding as they stepped into the atmospheric low lighting.  Despite the dusky mood light though, the Third Rail was in full swing; Magnolia stood on the stage, doing a particularly good rendition of  _Ain’t That a Kick in the Head_.  Over at the bar, patrons chatted avidly with Whitechapel Charlie, who seemed in a somewhat more sociable mood this night, as he whizzed about, serving drinks.  Sole could recognize many of the Third Rail’s patrons, through the smoke; Cait sharing rowdy banter with a man Sole didn’t recognize, and Longfellow chuckling with a glass of bourbon in his hand.  A few feet away, Hancock sat in one of the plush, red armchairs, legs crossed, eyes rested shut; sleeping or far away Sole couldn’t quite tell.  The small room seemed bigger tonight, full of idle chatter, and warm bodies.  Several pairs had taken to the dance floor, foxtrotting to some of the faster songs, and slowing it down for some of the slower pieces.  Sole and Nick took a seat at the bar, next to Cait, the latter too engrossed in her current story to notice.  Whitechapel Charlie whizzed over,

“What’ll it be?”

“I’ll just have a beer,”

Nick set his hat down on the bar beside him, “Nothing for me, thanks Charlie.”

Nick never ordered, but it never occurred to anyone in Goodneighbor not to offer.

“Coming right up,”

A few minutes later Sole was sipping a cold beer, Magnolia had just finished her last song, and after some sporadic applause, a quieter piece started up again in the background.  The last of the foxtrotters evacuated the dance floor, paving the way for couples and hopeful strangers to step in, swaying intimately.  A few beers later, Sole felt the urge to take their own talents to the dance floor, be it the mood set by the swanky Goodneighbor night life, or the confident buzz that had set in, they had their sights set on...


	2. La Vie en Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor has their sights set on Cait, through rose colored glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole turned to their right, where Cait was polishing off the last of her whiskey.  

“Cait,”

Placing her glass down with gusto, she pivoted towards Sole, red hair a deep maroon in the low light.

“So, we gettin’ out of here?”

Sole felt their cheeks warm at the thought of the darker implications Cait’s question could insinuate, trying to keep a light demeanor.

“Actually, I wanted to see if you’d like a dance.”

Half expecting her to scoff at the notion, Sole was surprised when the Cait slid off her bar stool, and grabbed their hand, leading them to the dance floor.

“Why not? I was gettin’ bored, an’ Longfellow there was talkin’ my poor ear off.”

Longfellow shot her a look from his place at the bar, as Cait snuck you a cheeky grin.

Pleased they had even managed to get this far, Sole’s confidence began to waver – they adored Cait, that much was obvious, but that didn’t mean she stupefied them every chance she got.  She seemed so brutish when they had first met, but even then, had never failed to have their back.  And now, after months of traveling together, Sole knew that despite her white-hot temper, she could embody the smoldering warmth of a hearth fire. Still though, they were cautious to overstep any boundaries, so they let her take the lead, let her place their hands on her waist, and placing her hands around their neck.  Right on cue, Louis Armstrong’s  _La vie en rose_ struck up – a rarity at the Third Rail, Sole would later realize, once the high of the evening wore off.

Awkward at first, Sole and Cait fell into a comfortable step rhythm, Cait’s surprisingly graceful movement gently leading.  

 _Hold me close and hold me fast_  
_The magic spell you cast_  
 _This is la vie en rose_

Sole’s heart seemed to swell – this song seemed to embody love.  Sole had never been so close – or intimate – with Cait, they could probably count her freckles.  Her green eyes glittered, and any secret feelings that had seemed like they might burst just a moment ago, had evaporated under the intensity of her gaze.

“This is nice.”

Sole swallowed, “It is,”

“So, what brought all this on?  Fancy me or somethin’?”

Sole studied their feet, their silence confirming the serious question veiled in cheeky levity.  

 _When you kiss me, Heaven sighs_  
_And though I close my eyes_  
 _I see la vie en rose_

Cait pressed herself closer to Sole, forcing Sole to look up, now nose-to-nose; too close to count the speckles that dusted her cheeks. Sole felt their arms tighten around Cait’s waist, their swaying slowing to a slow shimmy.  

She was so close now Sole could feel the soft rise of her chest with her breath. Sole’s heart seemed to be suck in his throat.

“What’re ya, daft?  Say somethin’, would ya?”

Her lips curved into a small smile, her tone teasing.

Sole felt her grip them more closely, before her face tilted slightly, lips first.  It would be strange if Sole hadn’t imagined exactly this a thousand times before, though usually in the safe privacy of their dreams.

 _When you press me to your heart_  
_And in a world apart_  
 _A world where roses bloom_

Sole pinched their eyes shut right as her lips pressed against theirs, tasting of whiskey and something else – sweet.  It was intoxicating.  Sole allowed themselves to deepen the kiss, tracing her lips with their tongue.  They could feel her sucking slightly at their bottom lip, and that’s how the kiss ended – with a soft smacking noise, both of their hearts hammering in their chests, and with a promise of something more.

 _And when you speak_  
Angels sing from above  
_Every day words_  
 _Seems to turn into love songs_

“So, we gettin’ out of here?”

Cait asked for the second time that night, her voice dripping with every implication this time.

“Let’s” Sole grinned and turned towards the door.

_Give your heart and soul to me_  
_And life will always be_  
 _La vie en rose_


	3. Crazy He Calls Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curie drives the Sole Survivor crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Across the room, Sole spotted Curie sitting quietly in the corner, attentively watching Magnolia, clapping after each song, and beaming.

Sole couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the gesture – everyone in Goodneighbor respected Magnolia, but with Curie, it just seemed so much more wholesome than just the unspoken respect everyone paid the flower of Goodneighbor.  With Curie it seemed more like the way a child just expects the world to return the kindness they put out, with kindness in equal.  Just the simplicity of wishing well unto another.  

Sole could feel their grin growing larger, as they slid off the bar stool, and went to meet Curie, before they fully realized what they were doing.

“Hi, Curie.”

Curie’s eyes seemed to light up when she saw them.

“’Allo Sole! ‘Ow are you zis evening?”

Her happiness was absolutely infectious, even without the buzz of some light drinking already settling in Sole.

“I’m great! I just wanted to see if you’d like to dance with me?”

Sole bowed slightly, and offered their hand, teasing about all except the wish for a dance with her.

Curie beamed, “I would be honored.”

Not quite getting the joke, and delighted at the politeness of the gesture, Curie did a little curtsy back, and readily accepted Sole’s hand.  As they made their way to the dance floor, they heard sporadic applause, as Magnolia’s previous song game to an end.  Curie let go of Sole’s hand briefly – to clap for Mademoiselle Magnolia of course – who bowed graciously towards her.

“Any requests?”  Her voice and poise oozed feminine elegance, but the smile she aimed towards the pair was innocent as Curie’s well wishing was.

“Ah!  _Oui!_  ‘Ow about the one about zhe crazy love?”  

Curie looked back to Sole, as if verifying her song selection.

Sole nodded enthusiastically, trying to act unphased by the way her heart kerplunked in her chest at her choice.  A song she had chosen seemingly so easily?  Was it that she picked the song not knowing the message it sent?  Or that she simply did not care if Sole knew?

Magnolia winked in reply, and a few moments later  _Crazy He Calls Me_  started playing.  

Sole reached to put one hand lightly on Curie’s waste, and she did the same with the hand that mirrored Sole’s, their free hands clasped together, as they began a simple back and forth.  

“I love zhis song!”

“Me too,”  Sole smiled back, twirling Curie.

“It’s so  _romantique_ , no?  I cannot sink of anyone better to share eet with!”

Unsure as they were about the levity Curie proclaimed such seemingly obvious affections, Sole enjoyed the honesty with which she carried herself.  Even if their feelings weren’t necessarily returned, Sole was grateful even for this – a lovely dance, with a lovely woman.  

“Oh, darling,” Curie seemed to sigh, twirling herself again, this time closer to Sole, so that their arms were wrapped around her.  They stayed that away for a couple moments, swaying pleasantly as the song came to an end. The intimacy with which Sole held her was lightened by Curie’s sunny disposition, even when she reached around to cup Sole’s cheek in her hand.  Sole beamed, in this moment, so, so happy.

Curie angled her face upward, batting her long eyelashes.  

Sole found themselves entranced, and leaned in closer, nose to nose with her.

Neither of them noticed when their swaying slowed to a stop.  In fact, neither of them noticed much of anything, once Curie eagerly pressed her mouth against Sole’s.  Her lips soft against Sole’s own, smelling faintly of vanilla.  The kiss was short and sweet – as if it were one of a million more they would share.  

When Curie pulled back, she was beaming a thousand-watt smile, her cheeks dusted a light pink.  Based on the warmth they felt, Sole would guess they looked about the same.

“Sank you for zhe dance, it was wonderful.”

Curie bounced up again to plant a swift kiss on Sole’s cheek, which only grew warmer.

“Of course, it was my pleasure.”  Sole smiled warmly back.  

With a lightness Sole hadn’t felt since before the bombs dropped, they spent the remainder of the evening curled up with Curie in one of the chairs in the corner of the Third Rail’s main room, watching Magnolia until the end of her set.  And even then, they could not bring themselves to part ways, so they didn’t.


	4. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse does something that he's only ever dared to dream of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Unbeknownst to Sole, Paladin Danse had walked into the Third Rail a beer and a half ago.  If they had been just the teeniest bit soberer, they would have realized right away how strange that was.  The Danse they knew hated Goodneighbor – full of synths, ghouls, robots; you name it, everything and every _one_  the Brotherhood of Steel had stood against, all treated equal to human beings. Hell, even Mayor Hancock himself was a ghoul.  Of course, that was before the Brotherhood of Steel had thrown Danse out on his ass – something that was partly Sole’s doing, as they had refused to kill him, resulting in them  _also_  being thrown from the Brotherhood. That didn’t bother them so much though; after all, a lot of the Brotherhood’s core ideologies Sole disagreed with.  Hell, the only reason they had been roped into joining in the first place was due to how highly Danse had spoken of it when they met him.  That was before Sole had realized they were just a group of…well, racists? At the time, they had figured they were just a pillar of goodness holding of the dilapidated remnants of Commonwealth – sort of like the Minutemen, but with more fire power.  Once Sole had realized their real agenda, they had figured that perhaps they could change from within, seeing as how quickly they had moved up the latter. Of course, for obvious reasons, that never came to fruition.  

The sound of Magnolia scatting pulled Sole from their intense recollection of recent events, and they fixed their gaze on the large man as he hesitantly approached the bar – he looked so much smaller now, without his power armor, which Sole had never seen him without.  It was either that, or the dazed look in his eyes that Sole attributed to him having his identity ripped from him.  Come to think of it, they hadn’t seen him since he had been banished by the Brotherhood of Steel.  

Without thinking Sole raised their hand in a lame greeting,

“Danse,”

They tried to keep their voice light and friendly, trying to reprieve the former Paladin from the onslaught of whispers and murmurs that seemed to be following him.  

“Soldi- ah, I mean, Sole, it’s good to see you again,”

Sole knew the greeting was half-hearted – the last time they had seen each other, his world had come crashing down around him, and even if their own feelings towards him had not changed, they knew they just served as a painful reminder of what had just transpired.  

Sole tried to keep their tone light.

“This is a surprise, I thought you didn’t like Goodneighbor.”

“That was before, I suppose now it’s the only place I could possibly go.”

While Sole understood what they meant – that Goodneighbor was meant to be a place where anyone could go and live without judgement, his former hostility towards the town perhaps would not make this the immediate haven he so desired.

Nevertheless, Sole didn’t need to tell him that, so they patted the empty seat next to them – Cait had gone off with Hancock, undoubtedly to check out his stash, a few drinks ago.  

Danse slid onto the barstool, and Sole signaled for Whitechapel Charlie to bring over another round.  It wasn’t until Sole and Danse were quietly sipping their drinks that they realized they didn’t know what to talk about.  Luckily, the perfect excuse to not talk was winding down right behind them, only to get ready to strike up again.  Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Sole turned to Danse abruptly,

“Dance with me!”

Danse looked over, surprised at Sole’s sudden outburst, “I don’t know, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sole quipped, placing a hand on their hip, “C’mon, live up to your name, I’ll help.”  They grinned, luckily, not sober enough to cringe at their lame attempt at a play on words.

Danse’s last attempt at an excuse faltered, and he stood up, following Sole to the dance floor, resigned.

Sole placed Danse’s hands on their hips and reached up to rest their own hands on his large shoulders.  Slightly shy, Sole felt determined to take the lead, like Danse had done so many times before, in the Brotherhood.

 _Dream a Little Dream of Me_  struck up, and Sole let their eyes fall shut, as she led Danse in a simple step and sway.  

“Ah, I love this song.”

A grin spread on Sole’s face as they peeked an eye open to see Danse focused intently on their feet.

“It is a fine song, but…dancing isn’t my strong suit.”

Sole giggled slightly and feeling brave – be it the mood the song set, or the buzz of the liquor, gently let a hand reach under his chin, and angle his head up so that he was looking into their eyes.

“Don’t study it so much,” Sole murmured, “Just let yourself feel it.”

Danse’s cheeks reddened at the sudden intimate touch, “…and if I mess up?”

Sole’s mouth quirked up in a flirtatious smile, “Then you mess up, I won’t tell.”

Sole brought themselves closer to Danse, enamored with the song, the low lights, and the way his eyes glittered softly under them.  Danse stiffened at their proximity, his face reddening all over now, but he never shifted away.

Feeling daring, Sole moved their face closer, wanting to see how brave Danse and their own conscience would let them be tonight.

Almost nose to nose now, Sole could feel Danse’s breath fan out over their face, could feel it hitch, hoping it meant he was as nervous as they were.  They half-thought he could hear their heart hammering in their chest.

 _Stars fading but I linger on dear_  
_Still craving your kiss_  
 _I’m longing to linger till dawn dear_  
 _Just saying this_

The blood seemed to be roaring in Sole’s ears, but it could not drown out the quiet voice at the back of their head, that seemed to be saying “ _Leap_!”

In the next moment, Sole was pressing their lips against Danse’s, eyes pinched shut, shielding them from the moment he would push them away. So, they were shocked, when he brought them closer.  Their lips melded together, Sole found themselves sucking slightly, finding the taste of bourbon on his mouth intoxicating.  Hungrily, Sole let one hand brace itself against the back of his neck, as the other played with his thick, brown hair, mussing it.  Danse was too engrossed in the kiss to care, and Sole felt his tongue work its way to the kiss.

Where had he learned to kiss like  _that_?

 _Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you_  
_Gotta keep dreaming leave all worries behind you_  
 _But in your dreams whatever they be_  
 _You gotta make me a promise, promise to me_  
 _You’ll dream, dream a little of me_

The song wound down just as Danse and Sole pulled away from each other.  The events of the evening had begun to catch up with them, and they felt their face warming from the intensity of the kiss, and the strong anticipation of what might come next.  Danse pulled back, but kept a hand gently against Sole’s cheek, stroking with his thumb occasionally.

“Outstanding.” Danse murmured and Sole erupted into a laugh, which he echoed, for the first time in who knows how long.


	5. I'll Be Seeing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor finally decides that she wants to be seeing more of Deacon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

“Psssst.”

Sole blinked, a little confused but ignored the strange noise and took another swig of their beer.

“Psssssst.  _Hey_!”

Sole looked around the room, checking for anyone who looked like they possibly be trying to flag them down.  The other patrons were engaged in their own activities, laughing, drinking, dancing, and some in more private acts – all not involving Sole.  So, who-

An elbow nudged Sole from Cait’s old seat. A drifter in clothes Sole didn’t recognize was smirking up at them, the man himself only recognizable due to the shades he always donned.

“Deacon!” Sole exclaimed, breaking out into a large grin.

“Heya Sole,” He matched Sole’s grin.

“I almost didn’t recognize you there for a second,”

Deacon chuckled, “That’s the idea,”

Sole laughed and polished off their drink.

“Well, here’s another one; dance with me.”

Deacon raised his eyebrows, “You want to dance?”

Sole blinked cheekily, “Yep, that’s why I asked.”

Deacon chuckled and shook his head, but offered his hand, leading Sole to the dance floor.  Deacon let his hands rest on Sole’s waist, as they looped their arms around his neck.  Just as they got into position, Magnolia started her rendition of Billie Holiday’s  _I’ll Be Seeing You_.  

They swayed silently for a couple of moments, the light atmosphere, suddenly turning a little bittersweet.

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized they’d be playing a slow, sad song, next.”  Sole grinned sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a nice song, “Deacon murmured, uncharacteristically quiet.  

He drew Sole close, so they could rest their cheek on his shoulder.  When they were this close, Sole felt like they could say anything.  Like they were the only ones in the room, feeling like they were just engulfed in Deacon.  They caught a whiff of his scent and felt at ease.  The proximity of their chests made Sole think about the chunk of her heart that seemed to already be claimed by Deacon despite their unspoken avoidance of talking about it.  But here, now, they felt they could let the sentiments permeate through to his own carefully guarded heart.

“I-It’s kind of fitting isn’t it?”  Sole let themselves ask breathlessly into his neck.

“How so?”

“You’re so elusive, and guarded that you just…”

Sole’s voice faltered as their confidence wavered, they hated the small tremble at the end of their voice.

“Sole…” Deacon began, trying to appease her for the sake of saving himself from the heart to heart he didn’t feel available enough to have.

Sole pulled back so that they could stare Deacon down, mustering every ounce of courage in their body, as if their gaze could somehow burn through the safety of the shades he insisted on always wearing.

“No, you just come in, stake out a piece of me, and disappear again, so that all I ever get of you are these…moments…”

Deacon for once, had no response on deck.  He couldn’t deny her accusations, nor could he dismiss the obvious feelings she mirrored his own with.

“And these moments aren’t enough, not when pieces of you linger with me after your leave again.  I see you in everything, everywhere, and I need more than just a glimpse of you every two months or so, because moments, mere moments with you aren’t enough anymore.”

He swallowed nervously, “What exactly are you asking.”

“I’m  _telling_  you that I want more with you.  I know you’re this mysterious enigma that nobody really knows, but I’m telling you what I know, and that’s that I want you.”

The song wound down, and the scattered applause from the other patrons in the Third Rail disguised the serious nature of their conversation.

“Listen, “Deacon pleaded, “It’s not that I don’t….share your sentiments, but I-“

“No,” Sole’s voice was quiet, gentle.  “Don’t answer me right this second.”

Sole let her hands drop from Deacon.

“I’m going outside for a smoke, to slow my heart rate, to get my head back on straight.”  Sole turned to make sure they had grabbed their satchel.  “If you accept my…proposition, you can meet me out there, otherwise, I’ll be back in a few moments for another drink and we can forget this happened.”

Deacon watched as Sole climbed up the stairs, out of the Third Rail, his heart pounding.  His every instinct screamed at him to go, and yet his worst fears paralyzed him.  How long did a smoke take anyways?  

“Hey Deacon, forgot who you are today?”

From across the room, a drunk MacCready jeered from across the room.

No time to banter with the prickly gun for hire this second.

“Not now MacCready,” Deacon muttered under his breath, hurrying up the stairs of the Third Rail, looking for Sole.


	6. A Kiss to Build a Dream On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor and the mayor of Goodneighbor lay a solid foundation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Pleasantly buzzed, and plenty courageous, Sole left the safety of the bar to saunter over to where Hancock was sitting, relaxed in one of the plush, red chairs in the corner of the Third Rail, Fahrenheit at his side.  Neither were talking, instead just watching the wane and ebb of the Goodneighbor night life this evening.  Fahrenheit raised her eyebrows when she saw Sole walk over, nudging the ghoul who had his eyes shut, beside her.

“Hancock,” she murmured, trying to get her attention.

He peeked one eye open, to check who had come over, his face breaking out into a large grin when he saw it was Sole.

“Hey sister, how’s it hanging?”

Normally, Sole hated it when he called her sister – a reminder of the platonic relationship she felt stuck at.  But tonight, tonight felt like a night for further endeavors, and new frontiers.  Probably due to the liquor, but still. Now was as good a time as any to come clean about her feelings for the mayor of Goodneighbor.

Sole smiled flirtatiously, one hand resting on her hip in a slightly sassy gesture.

“I just wanted to see if you’d dance with me,  _Mr. Mayor,”_

Hancock chuckled at her tone and got to his feet.

“I can’t say no to you, you know that.”

Sole grabbed his hand and led him to the center most part of the dance floor, keeping her back turned to him as they did so, slight nervousness settling in, as they started to realize the imminent confession they’d be making.  From around, a few wolf whistles could be heard, at the sight of Hancock dancing with someone – a rarity, if not a former impossibility.

Magnolia started up Louis Armstrong’s  _A Kiss to Build a Dream On_ , and Sole was grateful for the song choice – they loved it just enough that it could numb some of the embarrassment that had started to creep on them.

Hancock pulled Sole closer, leading, which was good, considering how breathless his arm around their waist left them, his other hand clasped against theirs’ palm to palm.  Unsurprisingly, Hancock was a natural – the kind of natural ability that had to accompany his brand of confidence.  

Sole was ecstatic, wanting to say something – anything, to kickstart what they so desperately wanted him to hear – and what they wanted to hear back.  But as they still struggled to find their breath, and with it, their voice, all they could do was smile their dopey smile.

“So, what brought all this on?”

Hancock’s eyes seemed to boar into their own.  The question seemed to sit like a loaded gun; full of potential, and yet, Sole was terrified to touch it.  They knew any long-winded speech would fall flat in their current state – both sobriety, and nerves.  So, they settled on brute honesty, something they’d figured if nothing else, would be appreciated by the man in their arms.

“I adore you, you know.”

The dancing figures around them seemed to disappear, and everything felt like it slowed, Hancock spun Sole, bring them back in closer.

“Is that right?”

“It is.” They forced themselves to match Hancock’s frankness.

He dipped them.

“I won’t tell you I don’t hold my own…similar sentiments about you, but,” Sole planted both hands-on Hancock’s shoulders to ensure he couldn’t distract them with anymore fast moves, forcing him to deal with her declaration.  He settled for a simple step and sway.

“You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone I cared about.”

For the first time since they had started dancing, he let his gaze drop to the ground, disappointment weighing down the levity they had both felt in the beginning.

Sole leaned in to press their forehead against his, for the first time, seeing Hancock look taken aback, at their proximity and the feeling of Sole’s smooth skin pressed against his own radiation ravaged one.

“On the contrary, waking up to this mug is all I can think about.”  Sole murmured.

“Well, I guess that works out well for me then, doesn’t it?”

Hancock’s tone was casual, but the corners of his eyes crinkled – a dead giveaway.

They swayed for a few more quiet moments, resting at the brink of the new frontier they had just uncovered.

“It does for me too though – I’m excited for all the perks that come with being with the mayor of Goodneighbor.” Sole teased trying to lighten the mood again.

“Oh? And what perks are those?”  he breathed, his gravelly voice taking on an even huskier tone, making Sole dream of feverish visions.

“I dunno, like a  _private_  tour of the old State House, perhaps?”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged.” He let out a throaty chuckle, a dangerous sound that made Sole eager with want.                              

In the next instance, Sole found themselves being pulled along, up the stairs leading out of the Third Rail, Sole’s laughter signifying her leave of the Third Rail, the night not even close to being over.


	7. Beyond the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacCready and the Sole Survivor take a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Picking up their beer, Sole murmured a quick “Be back in a bit,” to Nick, who waved idly at them as they headed towards the VIP room of the Third Rail.  Just as expected, MacCready was lounging around, with his own drink, his signature gun leaning against his chair.

Sole paused in the doorway, and leaned against the frame, smiling ruefully “Hey Stranger,”

MacCready grinned his crooked grin, raising his own beer in response, “Sole, there you are, I thought you had forgotten about me.”

Sole scoffed, “Me? Forget about you? How could I?”

_How could anyone forget about you?_

Echoed their light reply, but Sole didn’t dare say the words aloud.  

“Are we heading out now?”

MacCready looked as if he was about to sit up and grab his gear, ready to go out and risk his neck at their side at a moments notice, Sole had to remind themselves not to let their imagination run away with that.

“No, no, I was just unwinding here, and thought I’d come say hi,”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“Oh, okay, hey.”

The moments of silence that followed were uncomfortable, it just occurring to Sole that saying ‘hi’ was only acceptable for a short interaction, and that if they wanted to spend as much time with MacCready as they intended, they had better come up with a better excuse, and fast.

“Actually, there was one other thing I wanted to ask you,” Sole tried to sound casual, tracing the rim of their beer bottle with their pinky.

MacCready was silent, waiting for Sole’s question, the silence seeming more loaded than the gun he usually used.

“I was wondering, well,” Sole giggled, embarrassed and nervous as hell, “if you wanted to dance with me,”

Sole suddenly felt giddy – this type of secret-feelings – butterflies-in-the-stomach levity that they couldn’t remember feeling since before the bombs dropped.  

“Sure,” MacCready answered quietly, staring down at his own drink.

“Huh?” Sole had been so busy reveling in their warm, fuzzy feelings, that they had completely missed the reason they had asked in the first place.

“I said, yeah, I’d like to dance with you.”  MacCready said gruffly, still not looking Sole in the eyes.

“Perfect!” Sole beamed.

Barely giving him a chance to set his drink down, Sole tugged him to his feet, as the band outside struck up,  _Beyond the Sea_.

MacCready offered his hand to Sole, who readily took it.  Immediately the pair broke into a smooth step and sway, the happy song allowing plenty of leeway for MacCready to throw some fun twirls in for Sole, who was much obliged.

MacCready was grinning and Sole was grateful that they had stayed in the private little VIP room, so that MacCready could be himself as they enjoyed their dance.  During the kickdrum solo, MacCready faked an exaggerated tap-dancing spree that had Sole doubled over in laughter.  

MacCready couldn’t help but laugh too, pulling Sole back upright, and pulling them close as the song slowed slightly, beginning its finale.  Sole let their hands rest on his broad shoulders, while MacCready let his hands rest firmly on their waist.  They slowed as the song finished, a few last laughs escaping them as they caught their breath.  It seemed so natural, that Sole could hardly believe they were nervous just a few minutes ago.  

A few moments passed, and it had started to occur to them that the song was over, and yet neither was willing to break the comfortable trance they seemed locked in. His eyes on Sole’s, pensive.  Sole studied them, they seemed like they were drawing them in – it was hypnotic.  Before they knew it, there mouth was on MacCready’s.  Sole was startled, not sure how comfortable they were, or should be with respect to their late spouses, and yet, Sole had no desire to pull away.  Any grief or guilt they would feel would have to wait.  MacCready seemed to feel similarly, as it was he who deepened the heady kiss, nipping at Sole’s bottom lip, his tongue slipping into their mouth. Sole blissfully let him lead, one hand sliding up beneath his signature hat to run through his hair.  One arm gripped Sole’s waist in a tight vise, while another hand slid down slightly, dangerously close to the curve of Sole’s ass.

Vaguely, Sole wondered how far they would be going, and just like that, the kiss ended, MacCready pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and clearing his throat, studying Sole, their cheeks flushed, their lips slightly bruised, eyes glittering brightly.

“We should stop before things get, ah, any more serious.”

Sole’s heart sank.

“Yeah, y-you’re right, I’m sorry I-“

Sole turned to leave, suddenly ashamed that they could have hoped to expect more from the evening, delayed guilt creeping up on them.  What was wrong with them?

A tug on their hand stopped them from leaving, MacCready’s warm hand pleaded with theirs’.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, so don’t think that.  And it’s not that I don’t want to…you know, so don’t think that either.  But I’d rather not do that… _here_.”

Sole flushed, “O-oh,”

They found themselves being turned around in MacCready’s arms, now finding themselves caged in his embrace, resigned to meeting the intensity of his gaze.

“I want you, but to kiss you, like I want to kiss you, and love you, like I  _want_  to love you, I need to make sure that everything else is completely put to rest.  So, I’m just saying…let’s take it slowly.”

Stupid, hot tears welled up in Sole’s eyes, but relief let them release the breath they had been holding.

“O-okay,” Sole didn’t trust themselves to say anything else.

“Okay.” MacCready planted a kiss on Sole’s forehead, gentle, and sweet, before returning to his spot in the plush, red chair. Sole was about to take the seat next to him, only to find that MacCready’s hand refused to let their’s go.

Sole raised their eyebrows questioningly.

MacCready had a feverish hue.  

“Not  _that_  slow.”

He readjusted his position in the chair, before pulling Sole promptly down onto his lap, where they were able to spend the remainder of the evening cuddled up. Slow wasn’t so bad – the scenic route was beautiful after all.


	8. My Funny Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sole Survivor's favorite Valentine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole sat at the bar sipping their drink for a few moments, before shooting a glance to the side; Nick was sitting with his chin resting in his wiry hand, his eyes half lidded, seemingly a million miles away, with a cigarette resting in his laxed other hand.  His eyes glowed like lanterns, and Sole had to will their heart rate to slow.  Sole’s elbow was pressed casually against Nick’s forearm, and the desire to hold him and kiss him overtook Sole.  The urge to come clean about every feeling they had concerning the detective swept over them, an urge that Sole was sure, would only worsen the more they drank.  Sole asked for another round, which Whitechapel Charlie readily delivered.

A beer later, Sole had gone over their feelings for Nick at least a dozen times in their head, and every flip of their stomach, every patter of their heart resulted in the same outcome; tell him tonight.

Sliding off their barstool, they pandered over to Magnolia, on the other side of Nick, who was about to go up for her next set.

“Hey there darling, what can I do for you?”

Magnolia’s smiled her sultry smile, and Sole beamed back.  

“Heya Mags, I was just wondering if I could make a request?”

This had piqued Nick’s interest, and Sole could feel his glowing eyes on them, but ignored them, for the hope that they’d be able to follow through, despite every instinct in them telling them to run.

“Sure, what song?”

Flushing slightly, Sole leaned in and whispered in the singer’s ear.

Magnolia smiled knowingly, her gaze flickering between Nick and Sole before, winking and heading back up to stage.

The sounds of the band readying itself again told Sole that they had to act fast.

“Hey Nicky,”

Valentine turned to face Sole, “What do you need, kid?”

_God, his voice._

Sole swallowed before pressing on.

“Care to dance?”

Nick took a last puff of his cigarette before sliding off his own bar stool, leaving his coat neatly on the seat, and cuffing up the sleeves of his white, dress shirt.

“I’d be honored.”

His gaze was inquisitive, on Sole’s back as he followed them onto the dance floor, and Sole knew they would have to answer for the sudden proposition, and their mind started reeling for answers.  The music started up, and Sole couldn’t help but grin at their choice.  The melody to  _My Funny Valentine_  started playing, and Nick chuckled.  

“Doll, did you do this for me?”

“I did,” Sole beamed back sweetly.

Nick’s gaze seemed to soften – any intent of sniffing out ulterior due to this sudden display of affection was put on the backburner.  He offered his hand with a slight bow, being a gentleman at heart, which Sole shyly accepted.

He pulled them close, hands on their waist, with their hands on his shoulders.  They swayed back and forth in silence for a few moments.

“New mystery,” Sole suddenly began, and Nick looked at her questioningly.

“Why did I ask you to dance?”

Sole’s cheeks flushed as soon as they finished asking the question; it had to be so painfully obvious, their intentions now.

Sole focused on their feet, as Nick’s studied gaze seemed to burn a hole through them.  No doubt he could see right through them.

“Theories?”

Sole prompted, feeling cagey after no answer, still unwilling to look at his face.

“You like to dance.”

Sole nodded enthusiastically, trying to be their usual self.

“Very true, but I’ve always liked to dance, so why now, with you, tonight, with this song? Think like a detective.”

Sole was greeted by a few more moments of silence.

“You love this song?”

Sole swallowed thickly, he was guessing incorrectly on purpose.  To spare their feelings?  They couldn’t back down now.

“Close.  Keep to the theme.  ‘Love’ was spot on.  Guess again. You’ll get it.  You have to.”

Mentally, Sole slapped themselves for the desperation in their voice.

“Doll…”

“Guess.”

Sole felt their lower lip tremble and had to bite it to stop – the trembling and the tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“I-I’m no good for you.  You deserve someone younger, someone young and handsome, and who can  _give_  you things.”

Sole couldn’t stop them now, indignantly, they looked straight into Nick’s eyes, tears leaking down, face flushed.  But the only thing more humiliating than this would be if Sole backed down.

“Why do you get to decide that?  I want you, I’ve always wanted you.”

“I know you say that but-“

“If you don’t want me then tell me.”

Sole had to take a break from holding his gaze.  They sniffled and ducked their head in shame.

“What? I-“

Nick sounded exasperated.

“If it’s that you don’t like me back, then tell me, but that’s the only reason I’ll except, because I know what I want, and I know what I can handle, and that’s you.  The only reason we shouldn’t be together, is if you don’t want to.  That’s the only one.”

Nick lifted a hand, and gently lifted Sole’s chin, using his good hand to swipe at the tears frozen on their cheeks.

“It’s not that doll, trust me, it’s not that at all.”

Sole took a deep breath, trying to steady themselves.

“Well okay then, you know how I feel about everything else.”

Nick drew them in, resting his chin atop their head before planting a gentle kiss on their forehead. Happy as he was, this did not put Nick’s worries to rest.  But those could wait, for tonight at least.  For tonight he could at least pretend like those things didn’t matter to him, if not for Sole, then so that he could feel adequate for Sole – even if it really was just for the night.  By the end of the evening, they had shared so many kisses, Nick wasn’t sure he could go back to being any other way with them.  

“Ready to go?”

He stood by the bottom of the staircase leading out of the Third Rail, as Sole gave their last goodbyes to Charlie and Magnolia, before bounding back towards him, where he was waiting with his jacket.  

“Ready!”

Nick draped his jacket around Sole’s shoulders as they stepped out into the chilly night air. Sole linked their fingers together, so that their hands were palm to palm.  It was a gesture that made him feel so….real, so flesh and blood that he didn’t even make excuses when Sole got them a room at the Hotel Rexford.  Nor did he claim the couch when there was a perfectly good queen-sized bed in the room.  Instead, he let himself leave his clothing at a pile on the floor next to Sole’s, as they lay curled up against his chest, snoring, leaving him wondering how he ever could have felt not human to begin with as he threaded his fingers through his beloved’s hair like he did it a thousand times before, and would do so a thousand times again.  And he did.


	9. Fly Me to the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longfellow and the Sole Survivor become astronauts for a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole sat studying their drink, completely exhausted as the events of the last few days caught up to them.  Between the raiders, and all the walking and the radiation and…ugh, dammit they were just so  _tired_  of getting shot at!  Sole decided to brood over their drink, passively enjoying the music in the background, but still, sick and tired and wanting everyone else to know.

“What’s your problem?”

Longfellow was sitting two seats away, and now that Cait had left, Sole and he could speak with ease.  

“Nothing,” Sole muttered, just wanting to be difficult.

Longfellow snorted, “Then you must be a real joy to have around when something  _is_ wrong.”

“You bet I am, I’m always a goddamn ray of sunshine.”

That made Longfellow laugh, an outright, real laugh, prompting him to scoot over to the seat next to Sole

“Alright, kid I’ll bite.  What’s wrong?”

That’s when Sole completely unloaded for the first time since…well probably since they awoke from vault.  Every stupid, dumb, raider attack, the Institute, Shaun, the death of their spouse – it was just one thing after another.  Somedays, Sole wished that they had been the one holding Shaun that day in the vault…

Longfellow let out a low whistle of appreciation.

“Yeah, you need a drink.”

Longfellow waved his finger in a circular motion, signaling to Whitechapel Charlie to bring another round. Sole sipped on their drink, while Longfellow talked about his cabin at Far Harbor, Hannah, and his taste in drinks.  

The night wore on, and Sole found themselves less pissed off; Longfellow kept their mind off things, and a few rounds later, the two were doubled over in laughter at what exactly, they couldn’t remember, but they sure were having fun.

“Oh, wait, wait, wait!” Sole exclaimed.  “I love this song!”

Longfellow and Sole made sure to keep silent for a few moments, so that they could listen as  _Fly Me to the Moon_  played.  Longfellow polished off his current drink with gusto, setting the glass heartily back down on the counter with a loud  _clink_  much to Charlie’s chagrin;  _Nice glasses are hard to find in Commonwealth!_

Longfellow outstretched his hand “C’mon then darlin’”

Sole giggled and grabbed his hand, letting him lead them to the dance floor.  Longfellow shimmied exaggeratedly, dancing in a way that could only be classified as….”Dad- dancing”.

Sole doubled over with laughter again, letting him lead them into a twirl and dip.  They matched Longfellow’s silly moves stride for stride, and soon the whole dance floor cleared to make room for their drunken shenanigans.  

They were having so much fun that they didn’t even realize how many songs passed by.   _Easy Living, Unforgettable, Ain’t That a Kick in the Head_ ; they sang along to all of them, out of tune, and proud.  Finally, at  _Smile_ , they slowed it down, Longfellow leading Sole in a simple slow dance.  

Sole couldn’t contain their grin.

“What?” Longfellow grinned back.

“Nothing, it’s just…my grandfather used to take my grandmother out dancing every week.  Even after she passed, he would always insist on dancing with me, and every one of my cousins, my mother, my aunt – everyone. The man was ornery as all hell, but he loved to dance, and he was damn good at it too.  This just reminds me of that.”

“Ah, I forgot,” Longfellow’s smile turned bittersweet.  “You’re pre-war.”

Sole sighed, reminiscing simpler times.  And yet, they couldn’t bring themselves to completely detest the turn their life took. That’s not to say they weren’t still grieving their spouse and child but…the people they’ve met, the experience they’ve had, it all feels like it meant something more, than some silly provincial life in the suburbs.  Here they helped people, and stood for something that mattered.

“Well, “ Longfellow cleared his throat, snapping Sole back from their thoughts, “I’m probably not as good at dancin’ as your ol’ man was, but, I’d be honored to keep the tradition going.”

Sole beamed, “I’d like that, I’d like that very much.” They let him twirl them, as he would for the years to come.


	10. Ain't That a Kick in the Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Commonwealth's favorite silver-tongued journalist lands a poignant blow to the Sole Survivor's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

A few beers later, Cait had left, and at some point, Piper had come claimed her seat.  

“Piper! I’m surprised to see you here!”

“Yeah Blue, you and me both.” She took a large swig of her drink. “Just had to take a break from the stifling stench of bullshit in Diamond City.”

Sole could understand that, after weeks of watching Diamond City attempt to lock her out, watching security spit at her, and random McDonough enthusiasts spill drinks on her, Sole could understand needing a break of the constant…pushing back. Especially in doing a thankless job like Piper’s.  Not to mention, Goodneighbor was essentially the anti-thesis of Diamond City, what with Diamond City’s anti-ghoul laws, versus Goodneighbor’s ghoul mayor, and what not.

Piper groaned in frustration, “I’m so sick of McDonough getting away with all this.  The  _snake_!”

Sole reached up to pat Piper’s back sympathetically, “It’s a thankless job you’re doing, but it’s good you’re doing it.”  

“Someone’s got to, and it’s not right, the way people treat you, but your work is important, and I’m…glad you’re doing it.” Sole continued, trying not to be genuine but trying not to undersell the importance of what they were doing – after all, Sole couldn’t think of a single other person doing the work Piper did; going through hell and highwater to make sure that the public had access to the truth, all the while trying to build a life for herself and her sister in a city that seemed hellbent on making every little thing as difficult as possible.  


Piper sighed, resting her head on her folded arms, “Thanks, Blue.  At least I have you.”

Sole smiled, “You always will, you know.”

Piper turned and gave a small smile in return, “Yeah, I know.”

“For now though, it sounds like you’re on vacation,”

Piper shrugged defeatedly, “Yeah, I guess.”

“So then, the first order of business is…” Sole began to announce, “dancing with me!”  

Sole grinned broadly, and Piper rolled her eyes, but still took Sole’s outstretched hand and followed them to the dance floor, right as  _I’ve Got You Under my Skin_ started to play.  

Sole twirled letting themselves get wrapped up in Piper’s arms, before twisting again so that they could face Piper, grabbing their hands, palm to palm, they lead them in a goofy waltz, singing along exaggeratedly until Piper managed to crack a smile.

 _I’ve got you under my skin_  
_I have got you, deep in the heart of me_  
 _So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me_  
 _I’ve got you under my skin_

They switched to a more traditional position; hands on shoulders and waists.  Sole and Piper pulled each other close, and focused on the numbness the alcohol provided, with the levity the music did, and in that moment, Sole could close their eyes and feel like in this ocean of bullshit, Piper was like a beacon.

 _I’d tried so, not to give in_  
_And I said to myself this affair it never will go so well_  
 _But why should I try to resist when baby I know so well_  
 _That I’ve got you under my skin_

Sole tried to ignore the feverish visions of them and Piper that flashed through their mind; lips melded together, hands grabbing at whatever, hearts beating so furiously it would be impossible for the other one not to hear.

 _I’d sacrifice anything come what might_  
_For the sake of having you near_  
 _In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night_  
 _And repeats, repeats in my ear_

Sole adored traveling with Piper, and if it were up to them, would never go anywhere without them.  But alas, the Commonwealth needed as much help as it could get, and Piper had Publick Occurrences to take care of, as well as Nat.  Sole knew that if they asked Piper to tag along on their endeavors, she would undoubtedly say yes; which was exactly why they couldn’t ask – being away from the paper and Nat for that long would be the opposite of where Piper would want – and should – be, and so, Sole would have to bite the bullet and settle for these moments they got with Piper, because they were pretty damn lucky, to even get that much.  Sole felt themselves twisting again, Piper’s hands ghosting over their hips, Sole reaching up to encircle Piper from their position in front, as if they couldn’t bear to part.

 _Don’t you know, you fool_  
_You never can win_  
 _Use your mentality_  
 _Wake up to reality_  
 _And each time I do just the thought of you_  
 _Makes me stop before I begin_  
 _‘Cause I’ve got you under my skin_

Between the music and the atmosphere in the Third Rail that night, Sole couldn’t keep track of who was who, and what was where, which is why one moment they and Piper were (semi)-innocently dancing to whatever banger Magnolia was rattling off, and the next, their lips were softly working against each other, the alcohol silencing the crazy alarm bells going off in Sole’s head.

_Is this real?_

The thought slid right in one ear and out the other; who cared?  They were happy, surrounded by good booze, good music, and kissing on the cutest investigative journalist in the Commonwealth.

Sole tugged on the lapels of Piper’s signature duster, the newsie hat driving them absolutely crazy.  Sole vaguely registered the wolf whistles from the background, but didn’t care, as they hungrily pulled Piper closer – as close as they could be, as if even when she was pressed flush against them, it still wasn’t close enough.

At this point, their heart beats were so loud, it drowned out whatever Magnolia was singing here.  Blood roared in Sole’s ears, and they were hyper aware of everything going on inside; their heart beat, the want that burned within them, their stomach dropping, their breaths hitching in their throat.  As for the outside, it was all Piper, and that’s all Sole needed.

And that was enough, even as Sole woke up the next day, groggy and with a persistent hangover, wrapped in sheets, and with Piper’s bare arm thrown over their waist.  


	11. It's Only a Paper Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not make believe, that Preston believes in the Sole Survivor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole sipped their drink, scanning the bar, pausing only when they saw the familiar lopsided bend of a minuteman hat, and grinned. Sitting quietly in the back of the Third Rail’s main room, was Preston Garvey; his clean-cut, honest face looking misplaced in a Goodneighbor bar – where residents walked a line between right and wrong so fine, the wind could sway them one way or another at the drop of Hancock’s tricorn hat.

Scooting away from the bar, Sole decided that they would go rescue Preston from his own awkwardness; or at least that’s what they told themselves.  Truthfully, Sole was keener than they’d admit to strike up a conversation with the righteous bleeding heart.

“Preston,”

“General,”

Preston stood up in acknowledgement of Sole’s presence – as the General of the minutemen.

“What’s an eagle scout like you doing in a place like this?”  

Sole left their tone casual, ignoring the stuffy gesture.  While deeply respecting the noble man that was Preston Garvey, they couldn’t help but tease him, he was just so  _easy_.

Preston cocked his head to the side, confused, rather than peeved.

“Eagle scout?”

Dammit.  Right, that was a pre-war reference.

“Never mind,” Sole inspected a piece of dust on their shirt nonchalantly.  “What brings you to Goodneighbor?”

“Ah,” Preston took a sip of his drink before replying, “I was on my way to a nearby settlement that radioed in to Radio Freedom, and had to stop for the night, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to unwind.” He perked up, “Wait a minute, were you interested? We could go together, just let me mark it on your map-“

Sole shifted so that their Pip-boy was inaccessible.

“That reminds me, I had something I wanted to ask you.”  Sole hurriedly attempted to distract him – while they always looked forward to spending more time with Preston, they had always wished for something a little more…. intimate, than what he seemed to have in mind.

“What is it?”

“It, well –“ Sole’s eyes darted around, searching out anything they could use for their distraction.  Hancock sliding some drifter jet.  Magnolia singing, soulfully raising an arm up.  A couple dancing on the floor.  Jackpot.

“-dance!” Sole blurted, “I was going to ask you if you wanted to dance with me.”

Preston stared at Sole blankly, their seemingly odd request the last thing he would have guessed.

“Yeah, sure.”

The victory of a successful distraction now shrank in the shadow of the realization that they were going to wind up in Preston’s arms – a place Sole had only been before in fantasy. Excited and scared, Sole’s stomach did somersaults as they wordlessly led him to the dance floor.  Clasping hands on one side, Sole let their other hand rest on Preston’s shoulder, as his came to rest on their hip.  Sole’s face flushed as they couldn’t help but notice the lean muscle beneath his minuteman duster.

In the background  _It’s Only a Paper Moon_  played, not that Sole could hear it, with all the blood rushing towards their head.  

Preston and Sole were quiet, and then suddenly out of no-where Sole started singing along softly.

 _It is only a paper moon_  
_Hanging over a cardboard sea_  
 _But it wouldn’t be make believe_  
 _If you believe in me_

Sole felt Preston’s gaze on them, but refused to meet it.

 _Without your love_  
_It’s a honky tonk parade_  
 _Without your love_  
 _It’s a melody played_  
 _On a penny arcade_

“You know it’s funny,” Preston cracked a smile, and Sole couldn’t help but meet the sincerity in his eyes.  “how fitting the song is, I mean, because I do believe in you.”

Sole’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“I believed in you since the day I met you in Concord, and you’ve exceeded every expectation since.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know.” Sole murmured, pulling Preston closer, so that their chin could rest on his shoulder, and their lips were only inches from his ear.

“I find that hard to believe,” he chuckled, “I have no doubt that you’re the person who’ll be able to change the Commonwealth.”

“But the minutemen were the ones who opened my eyes to the troubles of the Commonwealth,  _you_  were the one who opened my eyes.”

Sole and Preston continued to sway in silence for a few more moments, not really paying attention to the rhythm of the song anymore.  

“Close your eyes.”

Sole bit their lip.

“Why?”

“Just do it,”

Preston shut his eyes just as Sole lurched forward to plant a soft kiss on his mouth.  They could feel his surprise instantly; a slight parting of his lips, a sharp breath.  The surprised reluctance only lasted an instance though, before it melted away into a sweet kiss he readily returned.  Both of his strong arms came to tighten around Sole’s waist, the force of the kiss allowing Sole to fall backwards slightly, prompting Preston to slide a hand up to tangle in their hair, supporting their head.  Sole’s fingers clutched at his lapels, pulling him as physically close as they could be.

Even when the kiss ended, Sole refused to let go, keeping their forehead pressed against Preston’s, his hat sliding off his head from the intensity of the kiss. Preston’s breath fanned over Sole’s face, as they let their eyes fall open to rest on Preston, whose eyes were still shut.

A few moments passed before he opened them.

“Wow, I mean, that was…wow.”

Preston chuckled, beaming at Sole, steadying them, but leaving their hands together, twining them so that they were laced together.  

“But, uh, there is actually a settlement nearby that needs help if you want to come with.”  He cleared his throat.

Sole rolled their eyes with a smile – it was so like Preston to jump back into business mode so suddenly.

“Of course I do.”

Sole said, planting another kiss on his cheek for good measure.


	12. What a Wonderful World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time since he can remember, Gage starts to see that it can be a wonderful world after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole recognized the gruff man a few seats down from them at the bar, his unusual, yellow gear making him a beacon of bright yellow in the Third Rail’s sea of sultry reds, dusky browns, and off whites.  Taking another large sip of their drink for good measure, Sole approached Gage, who didn’t spare a glance their way.

“Can I buy you a drink stranger?”

His eyes dart to Sole for a moment.

“S’okay, I’ve got one here already, boss.”

Sole disliked the title, as it made them feel distant from him, and yet, they knew that without it, Porter Gage probably wouldn’t have given them the time of day.  Sole helped themselves to the seat next to Gage, pursing their lips, trying to find another talking point that wasn’t related to the shit show that was Nuka-world now.

“Then forget the drink, and dance with me.”

Gage made a face. “Aw c’mon, you know I don’t dance.”

Sole kept a straight face, “I don’t know anything of the sort.”

They replied innocently – or rather, as innocently as the Overboss could.

Sole stared their second-in-command down, as he refused to budge.  If they knew Gage, they knew he was hoping they’d just drop it. That’s how he usually was with anything that involved some semblance of feelings or intimacy.

Screw that.

“Dance with me.”

Sole repeated, demanding.

“I don’-“

“Dance with me.”

“Boss, I-“

“Dance with me.”

Gage sighed loudly, defeated, but wanting Sole to know just how much they hated the idea, despite giving in.  Perhaps hoping that in the spirit of mercy, Sole would drop it after all.  Raider’s didn’t practice mercy though, and this applied double to the Overboss.

“Aw shit, c’mon now, you know this kind of stuff isn’t my thing.”

“But it’s mine,” Sole grabbed his hand, victorious, and pulled him to the dance floor.

_What A Wonderful World_  began playing, and Sole immediately took the lead, even going as far as to place Gage’s hands on their waist.  Gage flushed a brilliant crimson as Sole placed their own hands where they could on his shoulders, his bulky gear making it a difficult endeavor.  However, it was too late to allow Gage to back out now – for any reason; not when Sole had already managed to drag him to the dance floor.

By the time Magnolia had started singing, Sole had managed to coax Gage into an awkward step that was at least, on beat with the song.  The red in his cheeks hadn’t faded the least bit, and his gaze seemed glued to the floor.

It still wasn’t enough for Sole though, who was feeling more malevolent than usual.

“Now that I have you trapped,” Sole began, pausing slightly to watch Gage’s reaction.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

He swallowed nervously; the only nervous thing about him, having a vague idea of what would follow.

“Shoot.”

“Us.  I wanted to talk to you about us.”

Gage resisted the urge to run away screaming.

“What about us?”

Sole rolled their eyes, “Do I honestly have to spell it out? Have you really never even considered the possibility that we might be…more than just partners?”

Gage sighed the sigh again; defeated for the second time that night.  To be fair, the liquor had made him docile, and the dancing had crushed his spirit. A losing streak shouldn’t have been much of a shock.  And it wasn’t, since Sole had planned it that way.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.  You-you’re something, you know?”

“No, I don’t.”  

Sole’s stare seemed to be trying to melt Gage where he stood.

“Shit – you know I’m no good with words and crap.  What I mean is, you’re really something, and I mean, really something.  It’s how I knew you’d make a good Overboss, you know? And I’m…not that thing, which is how I knew I couldn’t be the Overboss, right? So, I don’t see how you and I could…I mean it just doesn’t mix.”

Sole was quiet for a moment, pensive.

“The way I see it, is that you and I make a good team.  We know this, you’ve  _seen_  this in the months we’ve been traveling together.  We’re better – stronger, together than apart.  I think that applies to us personally as well.”

It was Gage’s turn to look thoughtful now.

“Sure, I mean it makes sense, when you put it that way.”

“Still not convinced?”

“I don’t know boss, I just don’t know.”

“Then let me show you.”

In the next instance, Sole roughly pulled Gage in, mashing their mouth against his.  He responded almost immediately, his hands that were already on their waist, gripping more tightly, hungrily.  Without hesitation, Sole began to move their mouth against his, nipping and sucking slightly, trying to garner the biggest reactions from him they could.  But while Gage was a stranger to the warm, fuzzy feelings Sole started within him (much to his embarrassment), he was no stranger to the physical desires that seemed to run rampant inside him in this moment – the yearning that seemed to burn through him like a wildfire, and if Gage was sure of anything, it was that Sole was feeling the same thing.  

He never ceased control; Sole may have started the kiss, but he was sure as hell going to finish it…when he was ready.  Much to both of their relief, that wasn’t for a good long while.  The need to breathe seemed second to their need to touch, and by the time the two finally parted, both were left breathing heavily, now reminded of their need for air.

“See what I mean now?”

Sole breathed, still sounding confident, despite their heaving chest that fought to catch its breath.

“You mean it? No joking around, you really want me?”

Gage sounded quieter than Sole had ever heard him.

“I do,” Sole let their tone soften, for the first time that evening.  “and I’ll remind you as many times as it takes to convince you.”

They lifted their hand to rest on Gage’s forearm, thick with muscle.  Their hands fluttered over his skin, speckled with dust, and what Sole was guessing was blood.  He let their fingers run softly over his calloused palms, before enveloping his own in an interlocked hand hold.

“Sure, boss.” He muttered, fighting another wave of red that threatened his otherwise stoic face.

He let Sole lead them out of the Third Rail for another reminder, over at the Hotel Rexford.  


	13. They Can't Take That Away From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> X6 finally gets something of his own the Institute can't take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Leaving your spot at the bar, Sole headed up the stairs, out of the Third Rail to the chilly, Goodneighbor night.  Pulling out the carton of cigarettes they had found earlier, Sole slid a cigarette from the box, and began pawing through the pockets of their duster, in search of a lighter.

“Looking for this, ma’am?”

Sole leaned forward, cigarette in mouth.

“Thanks X6.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sole was about to ask X6 what they were doing out here, after all, X6 was nothing if not logical, and it didn’t seem logical to freeze outside, when there was a warm, accessible space right through that door.  Of course, the only people not welcome in Goodneighbor were institute synths – i.e. X6.

Sole saved themselves a snide remark about the frugality of stupid questions.

Sole wasn’t sure what to say, and X6 wasn’t much for small talk, so Sole let them sink into a half-uncomfortable silence, noticing the clarity with which one could hear the music from inside from where they were.

Then they had an idea – perhaps a stupid one depending on who you asked, but they were going to make sure they didn’t ask X6.

“Hey…let’s dance.”

X6 turned to look at Sole, his skeptical gaze apparent even through his shades.

“No thank you, ma’am.”

“Consider it an order.”

Sole tried to be cheeky, but X6 never really did cheeky well, and so the result was like that of dragging a pouting child to an occasion they really did not want to attend, with the pretense of “It’ll be fun!”.

X6 stepped up and listened to where Sole directed his hands.

“On my waist.”

His hand went to the back of their ribcage.

“Lower.”

His hand slid the teensiest bit lower.

“Lower.”

It barely moved again.

“Lower.”

This time, X6 slid his hand to Sole’s lower back, atop the beginning of the curve of their ass.

“Alright, that’s good.” Sole squeaked.

“I know ma’am, I can tell it’s the correct position, because your body temperature increased, as well as your heart rate.  It was a rather obvious indicator.”

Sole pursed their lips, not impervious to their own physical reaction to X6’s touch, and yet a little perturbed by his procedural one.

“Place your other hand at the same level.”

Sole managed to get their heart rate under control, but never did relieve their face of its red hue.

“Okay, good.”

Sole placed their own hands on X6’s shoulders and marveled.  Contrary to his rigid demeanor, the human warmth that radiated from his skin, beneath his heavy jacket struck very real feelings of empathy and affection within Sole.

Sole could vaguely hear  _They Can’t Take That Away From Me_  start to play, and as they began to initiate the simple slow dance, they were surprised to find that X6 was more than capable of leading.  In fact, he was quite light on his feet.

“X6, you can dance?”

“Affirmative ma’am, it’s quite easy for me to synchronize my movements to the rhythm.  Considering the simplicity of our dance, minimal hand-eye coordination is required.  Did you need me to further simplify it for you ma’am?”

Sole smiled ruefully, “No, that’s alright X6, I think I’ll manage.”

They were silent, and Sole didn’t expect anything else, considering it a success just by convincing X6 to dance with them in the first place.  Sole sang along as X6 obediently danced and listened.  The frosty atmosphere outside coupled with the warmth of X6’s touches, along with the lone streetlight that illuminated their makeshift dancefloor…the whole thing seemed oddly poetic.

“You like this song.” X6 observed suddenly.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“What else do you like?”

X6’s question seemed strange; he wasn’t the type to make small talk or learn personal details like that about people.  Still though, Sole wasn’t really in a position to be turning their nose up at his more human moments.

“Well, I like helping people, animals, reading…”

Sole listed them off, the generalizing making them feel like they were explaining their likes to a small child.  X6 nodded dutifully, and Sole began to wonder if he was really listening to what they were saying.

“And I like you.”

“Ma’am?”

X6 didn’t get flustered, confused, you name it, but if he could, it would’ve sounded perhaps something like that.  Sole froze, they hadn’t meant it in that way.  Not seriously anyways.  Sure, X6 was handsome and reliable, but they had no chemistry with him.  Sole wasn’t even sure there was anyone with whom X6 had taken a personal liking to.

They stopped dancing, and X6’s gaze never left Sole’s face.  Sole became hyperaware of their proximity, the silence that had now set in since the song ended, and the fact that they and X6 were completely alone in the empty main street of Goodneighbor.

Sole let go of X6, who mutely followed their actions.

“Thanks for the dance X6, it was nice.”

“You’re welcome ma’am, I enjoyed it as well.”

Sole couldn’t help but smile at that – the first time X6 had openly admitted to enjoying…well anything, let alone something with them.  This small victory made Sole brave, which is why they had no trouble perching up on their tippy toes and leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on X6’s cheek.

X6 turned to face Sole again, not shocked but…the calmest derivative of being shocked.

“Ma’am?”

Sole giggled, “I’ll see you later X6.  Don’t catch a cold, okay?”

They disappeared back into the safety of the Third Rail, leaving X6 alone again.  Somehow though, he felt slightly less lonely, though he couldn’t explain it.

Perhaps he’d further inquire about it the next time he saw Sole.

He hoped it would be soon.


	14. Alternate Start: Cheek to Cheek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Even from the stone carcass beneath the Old North Church, Sole could hear the raucous crash of thunder, and pelting of rain, like whispered gunfire on the pavement.  Sole was lounging on a mattress tucked in a dusty corner as candlelight tossed shadows across worn brick.  Travis Miles was playing a series of pre-war jazz, punctuated by some of Magnolia’s own songs, when Desdemona came in.  Her head perked a little at the soft sound of music.

“Hm, I like this song.”

The corner of Sole’s mouth twitched.

“I thought you hated Diamond City Radio.”

Desdemona scoffed.

“I hate the daffodil who  _runs_  Diamond City Radio; I don’t mind jazz so much.”

Sole bit back a laugh as Desdemona did a half-sway, like she wanted to dance, but didn’t want to be  _caught_  wanting to dance when she turned to lean against one of the crumbled walls. The scuffed toe of her boot tapped to the sashaying rhythm of the hi-hat cymbals.  

“You know, I’m pretty light on my feet.” She mused after a few moments.

“Oh?”

“That’s right.”

They locked eyes in a playful tug of war.

“Are you…hinting at something?”

Desdemona rolled her eyes as she pushed off from the wall.  The song on the radio ended.

“Shut up,” but she reached out an offering hand to Sole regardless.

Sole studied her hand for a moment.  Then a familiar, flirtatious piano intro started up, and Sole beamed, letting Des’ hand pull her to her feet.  Desdemona never let Sole go as she pulled her closer. Sole brought her other hand to Des’ and clasped them.  They started in an easy, jaunty step to the first verse.  Desdemona really was light on her feet; Sole struggled to keep her eyes off the intricate, flitting movements, like a hummingbird’s airborne dance. She didn’t even notice how Desdemona’s smug look had faded most bittersweetly, barely registered how their hands melted together, or how her eyes stole the fluttered excitement on her face as they flew.  It was sort of sweet to see her like this, Desdemona thought, this warrior, the one who infiltrated the Institute, and would be ready to burn it to the ground for the liberation of synths, the one who’d taken down more than one Courser, was shy in her arms.  Desdemona wondered if they’d have an opportunity like this again.  Surely, they must, for tonight would be too early to do all they wanted, and to have such future opportunities thwarted by the boogieman of the Commonwealth would’ve meant the game was rigged from the start.  Desdemona refused to be a key player in a rigged game, when so many other things in life were already fixed.

 _Oh! I love to climb a mountain,_ __  
And to reach the highest peak,  
But it doesn’t thrill me half as much  
As dancing cheek to cheek

“You  _are_  pretty light on your feet,” Sole murmured, just as they began to slow.

“I told you,” Desdemona replied.

They swayed quietly for a little bit, losing the beat of the song, dancing to one entirely their own.

“I’m going to think of this,” Sole said, “when I’m in the Institute, no matter what happens –“

“Don’t say that,” Desdemona’s voice was sharp.

“No matter what happens, I’m going to think of this when I’m there,” Sole insisted, “and I think it’ll give me peace.”

Desdemona steeled herself.

“To push a button?” she asked coldly.

Sole swallowed.

“And to come back.”

At this, Desdemona seemed to soften again; she was pliable once more, moving with Sole instead of fighting to move beside her.  Is this what it felt like to become putty in someone’s hands?  It had been a minor give, Desdemona relented, and she didn’t feel like a fool – not yet at least.  

“We should go out dancing properly, after this whole mess is over.” Sole grinned, although it didn’t reach her eyes.

“We will – promise. We’ll go to the Third Rail or something, where there’s live music, and we can get dressed up.”

Sole nodded approvingly.

“I clean up well.”

“Actually, I’m not surprised.”

Desdemona’s chest felt tight, as if someone had pulled on two purse strings that cinched it so tightly into itself, that the tissue crinkled and bunched from the tension.  The song was not yet over – almost so, but not quite. Years had stretched between them, and Desdemona felt content that she’d had her fill of Sole for a lifetime. Panic budded fresh beneath the irreverent thought; she was fooling herself, or rather, making a poor attempt to do so.

“Hey, Des!”

Just like that the intimacy in the tiny, crumbling room was sapped from it, as Tinker Tom’s voice sounded from the next room over.

“Where are you?  We need to talk.”  

Sole’s hands dropped from Desdemona’s; her touch vanished with the mood.  Desdemona sighed.

“I’m coming, Tom!”

Sole watched Desdemona as she left; there was no levity to her step anymore.  And so it began again.


	15. Alternate Start: Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole fingered at the sweating bottle of beer as she cradled it in her hands, unable to resist the urge to shoot a sharp gaze to her right.  Past Deacon’s familiar profile, the less common appearance of one of the Railroad’s best field agents sat with them in the Third Rail that night.  Maybe it was Magnolia’s voice coming from that dazzling dress, winking back light in a thousand sultry variations, or maybe it was the especially enthusiastic crowd as they jitterbugged and foxtrotted their way into the depths of the enthralling night, but every nerve in Sole burned hot like a live wire.  They only seemed to grow hotter with every glance, loaded like a gun and matched with Glory’s own; smoking like it had just been fired.  A blur of motion caught Sole’s eye, and she turned to look at her partner, irritated that he had pulled her attention from the Railroad’s transfixing heavy in the seat beside him.  

“Hey Charmer, if you take a picture, it’ll last a lot longer.” Deacon teased, raising an eyebrow.

Sole’s cheeks warmed, mostly because she knew the only reason, she could brush Deacon’s comment off was because she in fact, did not have a camera with her.

“I was just thinking about maybe asking her for a dance,” Sole mumbled lamely.

“So, just ask her,” his voice was kinder now, and he bumped his shoulder affectionately against hers.

Sole snorted.

“As if it’s that easy.”

“It is.”

‘Then you do it!”

Deacon studied her for a moment.

“You know what,” he said suddenly, “I think I will.”

Sole’s heart ceased as if someone had poured liquid nitrogen on it.

“Wait-“

Deacon had already turned and grabbed Glory’s attention. Despite the deep freeze waging on inside of Sole, she felt her skin erupt into flames.  Mortified, she raised her hands so that she could bury her face into her clammy palms.  

“She what?”

Sole could hear Glory’s voice sounding confused, rather than perturbed.  Peeking out from between her fingers, Sole watched Deacon lean in, his hand cupped around his mouth as he whispered into Glory’s ear.

“She haunts my pants?” Glory’s voice was skeptical.

Deacon paused for a moment, thoughtful.  

“Yes, that’s what she told me anyways – straight from the horse’s mouth.” He nodded earnestly.

Sole smacked his shoulder.

“That is  _not_  what I said.”

Deacon turned on his barstool to face Sole, crossing his arms.  Both Glory and Sole stared at him, weary.  

“Charmer – do you want to dance with her or not?”

Sole felt Glory’s gaze shift to her, and her face warmed under it.

“Well –“

Deacon nodded, “Yes, yes, of course you do. That’s what you sent me to do.”

“I didn’t  _send_  you to do anything.”

Deacon ignored her and turned to Glory.

“Do you accept her offer?”

The heavy’s face was impassive.

“Sure, why not?”

“Alright then, there we go.  You kids go have fun – don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  

Sole prayed inwardly for a piano to drop on her out of the blue, like in those old-school, pre-war cartoons.  Glory took a last swig of her drink for the road before sliding off of her own stool.

“Ready?”

“Yep,” Sole gulped, before following.

It may have been Sole’s idea, but there was no doubt who would be leading.  Glory stood in the center, and for a few moments, radio static buzzed between Sole’s ears as the band and Magnolia rallied for their next song.  The murmur of background chatter droned on around them, punctuated by a few miscellaneous crashes from the hi-hat cymbals.  Sole thought hard, trying desperately to regain access to her limbs; to tell her rubbery arms to answer Glory’s anticipating hold.  Then, a strong, warm grip was placing her hands for her; and Sole let herself completely short out.  She watched from miles away as Glory placed her hands on her shoulders, and her own, on Sole’s waist.  The warmth of her partner’s grip seared through the thin material of Sole’s clothes, and she had time to swallow one last time before the music swelled again.

_Into each life some rain must fall_ _, but too much is falling in mine._

They settled into an easy step from side to side.  Neither of them were terribly experienced dancers, but this sufficed.  

_Some folks can lose the blues in their hearts_ _, but when I think of you another shower starts._

Sole lifted her gaze from her feet to meet Glory’s, and her heart twinged.  Why were they dancing to such a sad song?  The song was all about endings, and what came after – but this had been a step forward for them, hadn’t it?  A beginning or before?

_Into each life some rain must fall_ _, but too much, too much is fallin’ in mine._

Doubt stirred at the back of Sole’s mind, and she tried to settle the nervous flutters.

_Some folks can lose the blues in their heart_ _, but when I think of you another shower starts._

Glory’s grip was tight around Sole; surely if this was an end, she wouldn’t have held her so.  Sole studied each flex of the woman’s fingers, analyzing the way in which they palated her skin; soft and firm, good for leaving fingerprints.  Sole wish she could capture them for herself.

_Into each and every life some rain has got to fall_ _, but too much of that stuff is fallin’ into mine._

The words wormed their way into Sole’s brain and circled like a clot of hair at a drain; there was no getting out.  All things considered, her luck was both impeccable and absolutely rotten.  On one hand, she had survived nuclear annihilation.  On the other, everything she’d held dear, had  _been_  annihilated.

_Some folks can lose the blues in their heart_ _, but when I think of you another shower starts._

As the song came to an end, Glory’s lips moved as she spoke, but silence rang back to Sole.  She blinked at her and focused on the dripping cold that seeped into her chest.


	16. Alternate Start: The Nearness of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

The gangs in Nuka-World, as it turned out, were just as hard pressed to get along as the factions in the Commonwealth; something that had surprised Sole, seeing as they all had come together to power up Nuka-World again.  Of course, one shouldn’t underestimate the magnitude of the task; it was true, that once the sun rose again in the morning, the gangs would return to being competitors.  For now, though, while the smattering of stars complimented the lantern glow in Nuka-Town U.S.A., and the rides in all five parks let their lights dance across the shining eyes of the raiders that watched them, an unspoken truce had been reached, and the central area was full in equal parts, of Disciples, Operators, and Pack members.  From the speakers sitting at the tops of the streetlights, the Nuka-World jingles had been replaced with music more fitting for the occasion, courtesy of RedEye.

Sole stood grinning excitedly in a less crowded corner of Nuka-Town as a whole myriad of colors flashed around them, enamored with the familiar sight of the theme park’s festive colors coming to life.  The butterflies in their stomach didn’t stir until a familiar head of blonde hair sashayed past them.  Mags Black, in all her sparkling glamour turned to Sole, the ever-brooding William in tow, as always.

“Fine work you’ve done here,  _Overboss_ ,” Mags sent Sole a thin smile.

“Glad you like it,”

A familiar melody kicked up on the speakers, and despite the skeptical way she relented to this one triumph, the jittery restlessness that jolted through Sole threw the words from their mouth before they could stop them.

“Care to dance?”

William’s and Mag’s faces mirrored surprise.  It only grew on William’s face when Mag’s tucked a stray lock of platinum blonde hair behind her ear.  She stepped forward to accept the hand Sole hadn’t realized they had offered.

“I suppose one dance couldn’t hurt.”

Mags drew herself closer using Sole’s hand, before taking the wrist at their side, and guiding it to her hip.  Then she brought her hand up to Sole’s shoulder.  Sole swallowed nervously, before taking the first step to the right, and so they began their gentle sway.

 _It’s not the pale moon that excites me_ __  
That thrills and delights me  
Oh no, it’s just the nearness of you

Sole was no stranger to dancing, or to this song for this matter; it had been one of their favorites pre-war, and hearing it again now, with the lights, and this lovely woman in their arms; it was no wonder their heart was seizing against their ribcage.

 _It isn’t your sweet conversation_ __  
That brings this sensation  
Oh no, it’s just the nearness of you

Sole’s throat tightened at the feeling of her beneath their hands.  They fixed their gaze on a point in the distance, half wanting to savor the moment that they’d bet would never happen again, and the other half, needing this to be over so they could let their flaring cheeks disintegrate Sole where they stood..  Sole could feel her body heat radiating through the material of her clothes.

“Are you going to be like that for the entire dance?” Mags’s voice, like silk on Sole’s skin pulled them back into their body, right as she lifted a palm and brought it gently across Sole’s face, guiding their gaze back to focus on her.

 _When you’re in my arms_ __  
And I feel you so close to me  
All my wildest dreams came true

“Sorry,” Sole cleared their throat.

With the beat of the next sway, Mags brought herself closer to Sole, pressing herself against them. Sole fought the urge to wrap their arms around her waist.

“I make you nervous.”

She wasn’t asking, she didn’t need to.  It was written all over Sole’s face.

 _I need no soft lights to enchant me_ __  
If you will only grant me  
The right to hold you ever so tight  
And to feel in the night  
The nearness of you

“A bit,” Sole admitted, before shifting their gaze back to Mags.

Her eyes were less abrasive than usual; if they were the ocean, the waves dipped and rocked with the pair’s gently swaying, instead of crashing against brimstone, tonight.

“Regardless, I’m…glad you asked.”

Her mouth was a firm line, and Sole knew this was about as honest as they’d get her, for now at least.

“Yeah, me too.”

Sole’s hands felt at home in the divot of her waist.  The warmth was soothing, and when Sole felt brave enough to look in Mags’ eyes, they were delighted to see it matched the heat in their palms.  Sole’s arms snaked around the woman’s waist after a few moments. Any other time, and they’d have half a mind to do something so forward with her.  In this instance though, Sole was confident that it was the most right thing they could do.  Mags hands trailed a creeping heat down Sole’s back, drawing so near that Sole could count her eyelashes had they been looking at them.  Instead, Sole’s attention was pulled to her mouth, and the coy way she bit at her bottom lip.  Nerves from earlier caught up to them, and suddenly Sole found themselves unable to close the distance.  Mags was not a closer; she was an opener, and even a finisher, but a closer?  She was far too ruthless, and far too aware of her worth to ever close.  Still though, Sole thought they saw something come across her face, in one flitted expression, as if she might’ve considered it, perhaps might’ve even started acting on it, had the music not dwindled like water down a drain.  

Then, they were in Nuka-World again, bright lights were still being scattered every which way, and the smell of sweaty raiders crept up between them, shoving them apart with the tact of a bull in a china shop.  

“Well, that was-“

“I uh,-“

Sole and Mags both paused, Sole skittishly, Mags, a bit impatiently.

“I’m glad we did this.”

Mags stared at him, her eyes regaining their guardedness.

“Good work, Overboss.”

She turned on her heel, off to find William, Sole supposed.  Sole watched her retreating figure, while in Kiddie Kingdom, brightly painted horses continued their unending race.


	17. Alternate Start: Mr. Sandman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Sole shifted in her seat, trying not to appear as if she were squirming.  The skirt of her modest, sundress wrinkled from the clamminess that suffused her skin when she squeezed her legs together, or when her fingers balled the material beneath the table as she tried to keep her face impassive.  Funny enough, Pickman’s house rivaled the Cabot’s home in cleanliness; although without the pre-war trappings that made it ‘more museum than house’, as Nick used to say.  The home might’ve been just as odd, but were it to be preserved for viewing, Sole ventured it’d be for a completely different reason.  An idle memory drifted through her mind like the only puffy cloud in an otherwise cloudless sky – her childhood friend with a crumpled-up flier in hand, begging Sole to join her in Salem, to ogle a morose piece of history. Now, on a table for two, fancy lad snack cakes were arranged on a three-tiered tray like little tea cakes had been in the doll sets Sole played with as a little girl.  Beside it, a porcelain tea set sat neatly on a scratched, silver platter.  Scoring the sad party, was a tinny radio set on a decorative table against the wall, playing what sounded like what was old show-toon music.

“I keep an orderly home,” Pickman had boasted as he let Sole in, “my art is where I allow myself to indulge in messes.”

Sole had been trying feverishly not to think of the implications that held given his…medium, ever since.  They were now forty minutes into lunch; Pickman had been enthusiastic in touching the cakes (Sole wasn’t confident her writhing gut could handle much more than tea at the moment), as well as in offering up conversation.  

“So, I’d gather you’re wondering why I called you back here.”

“I hadn’t thought much of it,” Sole lied.

Pickman chuckled knowingly but didn’t bother saying anything more of it.  Meanwhile, Sole steeled herself against the vicious shiver that raced up her spine.

“Consider it a…thank you.”

“For?”

Pickman leaned forward so that one elbow was on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.  A snake’s grin was still smoothed at his lips – deceptively handsome. Sole resisted the urge to lean in.

“For saving me against those…vermin, for not tattling on me, and of course, for your own contribution to my life’s work.”

“Huh?”

Sole’s eyebrows flew up questioningly, her voice sounding louder as it timed up with the pause between songs on the radio.

“Let’s dance,” he said suddenly, as the beginning rhythm of the next song began to spelunk out, through the low-resolution speakers.

Sole opened her mouth to protest, but Pickman had already risen from his place across the table from her.  The rest of the domestic little room opened up into a wide expanse of space – as if he’d intended for it to be used for abrupt, table-side waltzes.  He turned to face her, outstretching his hand expectantly.  Sole rose to her feet, willing her knees not to knock together as she did so.

“You look pretty,” he remarked, as she tentatively accepted his hand.

Sole’s face warmed; killer or not, he was handsome. His suit was meticulously pressed, and of the same family of yellow her dress was in.  Today, a small bundle of red poppies peeped out from his jacket’s breast pocket.  

_Please turn on your magic beam_ _, Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream._

It was a foxtrotting rhythm, so Sole was surprised when Pickman pulled her close, one hand at her waist, whilst the one she’d accepted, remained at about shoulder level, clasped in her own.  They swayed as if moved by a lament of lover’s passed, rather than the girlish calls of lovers to be.  The hairs on the back of Sole’s neck prickled, and unused tension coiled in her leg muscles disintegrated into a peppered restlessness. The song’s rhythm felt urgent compared to their relaxed snail’s pace, and Sole suddenly felt very clumsy, as if the rug were being pulled from beneath her feet.  She felt herself resisting the urge to buck away like a skittish colt; his warm grasp anchored her.  She didn’t yet know if that was a good thing.  Warmth from his grip seeped through the thin material of her dress, the space between them so thin they could’ve held one of his calling cards between them.

“Tell me something,” he murmured.

His lips were at her ear.

“Yes?” she breathed.   _Anything_.

“Are you afraid?”

“I…no, I’m not.”  Sole’s eyes were fierce as she forced herself to meet Pickman’s curious ones.

Her bottom lip trembled though, and he caught the way she bit to steady it.  The corner of his own mouth twitched upwards.  

“That’s good; you have no reason to fear me, just as I have no reason to fear you.”

“Oh?  And what makes you say that?” Sole couldn’t help the indignant little quip.

“You and I are simply, one in the same.”

Sole jerked her head back; resistance pulsing through every fiber in her being.  

“I doubt that.” She said dryly; it was the politest she could afford right now.

“But we are,” Pickman insisted, never missing a beat - their beat anyways.  They had missed an uncountable number in the song.  “You and I have killed before and we’ll kill again.”

“It’s different!”

“Is it?” he asked without vitriol.  “You and I only kill those who deserve it; those who force our hands with their ill will.”

“You don’t just – “ Sole’s voice lowered, “ _kill_  them.  You do…those things with their bodies afterwards.”

Pickman nodded, unperturbed.  

“Their miserable lives amount to something far greater than what they were, through my art.”  

A wide smile spread across Pickman’s face, almost childlike with glee.  The abruptness liquified Sole’s legs; and she clutched herself closer to him for stability. His thumb stroked lightly at her side, pleased with this development.  

“At least they’re not going to waste with me,” he teased, “in fact, one might say that  _you’re_  the wrong-doer here.”

Sole’s jaw dropped.

“You  _enjoy_  it.”

“And do you not smile at the prospect of living to see another day, in a world that’s now just a tiny bit better?”

Her face darkened; the words in her mouth evaporated along with the ease of breathing.  Pickman felt the way her chest heaved against his when her breath caught.  His grip was searing her now, his face close enough to catch a whiff of her fear and…she feared, something else as well.  Sole tried to draw breath into her lungs again, but Pickman was holding her so tightly to him, there was hardly any room.  Or maybe her lungs were rejecting this air that she took in, from the few inches of space between her and Pickman’s lips, as it practically buzzed with loaded tension.  Her eyelashes fluttered, settling on a half-lidded position as she hazarded a look into his eyes.  She leaned into him more; the paralysis in her legs seemed to spread to the rest of her as well.  She wanted to take alarm with this; when had it gotten so  _real_?  Sole felt led heavy, but if Pickman thought so too, he didn’t show it.  His face blurred in and out of focus.

“Pickman…?” she mumbled.  

“I’ve got you,” he answered, his voice like silk.  

Sole slumped and Pickman caught her readily. Her head lolled backwards; her spine was useless now, but still allowed her a glimpse of the cakes from earlier. The lone cake she’d nibbled at still sat lonesome on her plate, a few small bitemarks hatched into the side. Pickman was now supporting her from below, rather than holding her flush to him; yet her chest felt weighed down, like it had been dropped into a tub of molasses.  Sole tried to focus on breathing, but her heartbeat felt no stronger than a couple of stray bubbles that came in the wake of a capsizing boat.

_…would be so peachy before we’re too old_ _, so please turn on your magic beam…_

Pickman’s face swam into view one final time, his teeth flashing white.  Then blackness overtook Sole.


	18. Alternate Start: Come Fly With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Soft, spring rain pattered outside.  Occasionally, the Fizztop Grille would breathe and draw in a gulp of cool, damp air with the flutter of the thin curtains Sole had taken to hanging at the windows.  The record player Sole had salvaged from when the room was tailored to Colter’s eccentric tastes was humming quietly in the corner, with a record she rather liked. When Sole shut her eyes; NukaWorld all but melted away.  It might’ve been another lazy pre-war day; her husband may have been just hours from returning home, and Shaun may have been napping soundly in the crib.  Maybe it was just her in the house, skin chilled beneath the thin fabric of her house dress, but her, warm all the same from knowing the evening would hold nothing more ambitious than dinner and some reading before bed.

Sole’s heart leapt to her throat when his quiet knock sounded at the door, but she would never show it.  

“Come in,” she called, tugging at the hem of her skirt to straighten it out.

William Black entered, and the record player greeted him with a muted, jovial;  _Come fly with me, we’ll float down to Peru, in llama-land there’s a one-man band…_

His big-haired sister was no where to be seen; Sole’s stomach swooped.

“You wanted to see me?” she couldn’t stifle the grin that split her face.

“Yeah,” William cleared his throat.

Sole waited for him to elaborate, but he never did. She crossed the room towards him.

“Where’s the music coming from?”

Sole giggled and jerked a thumb in the direction of the record player.  

“Would you believe me if I said that Colter had this little gem hidden away?”

“You’re asking, if I’d believe that Colter was sitting on his ass, hiding away something useful?” William retaliated, raising his eyebrows.

Sole laughed again, this time, more honestly.

“Touché.”

“So, what do you do with it?” he asked as Sole sauntered up to him, her face, too lighthearted to put him at ease.

“With what?  Music?” the corner of her mouth quirked upwards, and she extended a hand towards William.  “Why don’t I show you?”

William studied her for a moment but accepted her hand. Sole looked as surprised as William felt.  She tugged him closer, and probably only succeeded due to the element of surprise. William’s face released its perpetual brood as Sole brought him near to her, so close that there was no telling where his silhouette ended, and hers begun.  

“Boss, what’re you-“

“This is what people do with music William, I know you and Mags at least didn’t  _grow up_  under a rock.” Sole said matter-of-factly, but her cheeks darkened anyways.

“Okay, you’ve shown me.  Can we get down to business now?”

Sole noticed despite the edge in his voice, he made no move to pull away from her, himself.  

“This is business.  You should be comfortable with dancing every so often.”

“Oh yeah?  Says who?”

“My grandfather did,” Sole recalled fondly, with a faint smile, “he was a tough son of a bitch, but he took my grandmother out dancing every Friday.  And he made sure all us kids knew what we were doing too.” Sole added.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me?” William asked, although with less resistance.

“You never know, what if you meet a girl, become smitten…” Sole softened her voice to a whisper.  William leaned in so as to not miss what she said next.  “Maybe you already have.”  Sole had intended to grin as she said this, but her mouth hadn’t caught the memo.  It came out as a twilight declaration.  

 _We’ll just glide_ _, starry-eyed_ , the record player murmured from a distance.

William watched her and said nothing.  Sole bit her lip, and his eyes dropped to watch her teeth divot at her plush bottom one.  She raised her hand slowly then, so that he could’ve stopped her as she reached for him.  His eyes flicked upwards and followed her hand in its invisible, wanting arc. Still, he made no move to block her advances as she gently brushed a lock of hair behind his ear.  The pads of her fingers lightly skimmed above his left eyebrow as she moved the soft tendril of hair from his face.   _Soft_ , they both thought.

That was the only soft thing about him; William Black’s mouth was pressed into a weary, thin line.  The corners of his eyes were pulled tight by the tautness in his face. He looked as if he were laboring over something, but Sole couldn’t say for sure, what.  

William felt like a marionette doll, with the simpering voice in his head pulling his strings as it grumbled;  _She’s your boss, the Overboss, your boss._   He was rigid in her arms, when all he wanted was to melt into her touch; but he’d never done anything resembling ‘melting’ in his life.  He and Mags wouldn’t have made it to where they were today, if he’d had.  Now he was here though.  No one was breathing over his shoulder or jockeying for him to fail; it was just him and the voice and the need to not bristle at every line Sole seemingly crossed.  It was hard though, seeing as he and Mags had drawn it when they had been so very young; them on one side, everyone else on the other.  

Sole scrubbed it out with the toe of her shoes as she twirled herself under his arm.  His blood burned him, as if infused with gasoline.  

She was his boss – the Overboss.  His boss.

But in his arms, she was soft, and warm, and smelled faintly of hubflowers and when she touched him, she trailed fire at his skin.

_Once I get you up there_ _, where the air is so rarefied…_

The building sighed again, and a light sheet of rain misted them from the open windows.  William’s eyes fluttered shut almost on instinct as he let the wetness simmer at his heated skin.  He breathed a steady stream of air out, and let his body finish the motion closer to Sole than when he’d started.  It wasn’t the worst thing in the world.


End file.
